One Shot!
by Ivy-7208
Summary: Random one-shots about everyones favorite superheroes... after Spiderman... Taking prompts for this one! Rated for possible future one-shots.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N:** Not sure how well it turned out. Review? Either way, this is a SuperBat fic but I might do other pairings or whatever here in the future that aren't. Something you wanna see written? Prompt me!_

* * *

It was their worst fight in years. Batman stood in the pouring rain, facing off against one of his best friends. Sure, he and Superman argued on occasion but it had never come to blows before. Not since the whole thing with Sweet Tooth. But here he was, blocking desperately as one of the people he cared about most swung his fist with bone shaking strength. With speed no normal human could hope to match Superman gripped the collar of Batman's cape and lifted him so his toes just barely scraped the floor and their faces were so close that it seemed to blur around the edges.

"Superman!" he gasped "Clark! You gotta listen to me. This isn't you. We're friends, remember?"

But Superman couldn't or wouldn't remember. The Kryptonite mind wipe had seen to that. All the fruitless attempts at reason had done was rob Batman of his last few breaths of Oxygen. Darkness started seeping into the edges of his vision as he fought desperately against the choking pressure of his own cape. Starved of breath and almost passing out, Bruce found himself doing the only thing he could think of.

He kissed Superman.

It was soft and quick but it did something. Batman felt the ground hit his feet with a slightly muddy squelch and he gasped as the pressure on his throat vanished. He threw aside his iconic cowl, coughing and sucking in enormous breaths of air and probably a little bit of rain water. Leaning against a tree he looked over at his friend whose eyes had lost focus. Superman raised a hand to touch his lips before finally focusing on Batman. The man in the red cape took a tentative step and then another until he was stood right in front of the Caped Crusader. With his usual superhuman speed he closed the last few inches of space between them.

"B-Bruce?" he whispered, barely audible above the din made by the rain on the leafs.

Then their lips connected and the world fell away.

Was it still raining? Batman supposed it must be, the hair clutched between his fingers was soaked through.

Superman pulled back just enough for them to catch their breath.

"Welcome back Clark." sighed Batman.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N:** So I finally figured out how to enable anon reviews meaning anyone can give me prompts now. Please do, I'm bored and I need things to write but I don't have enough ideas of my own! Also, thanks to everyone who reviewed the previous chapter. You guys make me smile so big (Awkward when my Dad asked why I was grinning like an idiot. He doesn't know I write fanfiction!) :D_

* * *

Dick Grayson sat on his bed, sniffing quietly as he examined a purpling bruise on his wrist.

Third time this week.

He shook the sleeves of his jumper down and examined the effect with a sigh. Wrist bruises were always harder to hide. The knock at the door made him jump. Dick rarely got visitors, having been passed around the aristocracy of Gotham for the past year he didn't have many friends outside of his fellow Superheroes. He called out for whoever it was to enter. The door swung open and in strolled none other than Clark Kent.

This struck Dick as particularly strange. Clark never came into his room, usually he would come to visit Bruce.

"Nice room" said Clark, taking in the walls that Dick had covered in a variety of posters, newspaper clippings about Batman and Robin (the nice ones, not the ones that said he sucked) and photographs of himself and all of his new Superfriends.

"Hey, Clark." Dick tugged down his cuffs to better cover his wrist, "I think Bruce is in the Batcave. He wanted to tweak the Batplane a bit."

"I know, I wanted to talk to you."

"Oh?"

"I heard you crying."

"Oh."

Clark sat down on the bed next to Dick. "Is there anything you want to tell me?"

Dick looked up at Clark. One of his best friends and mentors. He knew he could tell Clark anything. Anything but this.

"No, nothing."

"Uh huh." Clark did not look convinced. With super speed he twitched Dicks sleeve just enough to reveal the dark purple splotch that marred the skin. Somehow it appeared even worse than before. Dick could not look at it.

"Dick." Clark gently took the young boys wrist and held it at his eye level. "Who did this to you." The older man's eyes took in the rest of him. He could tell he was using his X-ray vision to pick out other bruises, the ones concealed beneath his shirt.

"Doesn't matter." Dick avoided the gaze.

"Yes it does! Was it someone at school?" Dick nodded "Why?"

"Cause I'm an orphan and I don't know all the things they do because I've never been to school before."

Clark shook his head. Dick said it so matter of fact. Like it was okay.

"What about that Wally kid? Wally West? Barry's girlfriends nephew. Doesn't he stick up for you?"

"Yeah. He just gets beat up too."

"Who did this?"

"Lonnie Machin" whispered Dick

Clark was shocked. Did Bruce know about this? Did Barry? Probably not if it was still going on. Bruce would probably storm down there and yell at someone if he found out. He wondered briefly if that might not be why Dick hadn't told him.

"So," Clark began fishing for information, "what do these kids do to you?"

Dick, sensing there was no way around having this conversation began listing what might as well have been methods of torture. Swirlies. Punching. Tripping. Name-calling. Spitballs. The list went on. Every word making Clark more and more angry and determined to make this right.

Dick chewed his lip. "Don't tell Bruce. Please?"

"Why not?" Clark was confused. Why shouldn't he let Bruce know? He had a right to know as the boys legal guardian and it was the only way to get the situation resolved.

"Cause I don't want to be a tattle tale. Lonnie'll just hate me more. And..." Dicks voice seemed to shrink smaller and smaller as he spoke.

"And..?"

Dick gave a great shuddering breath and let one fat tear roll down his cheek onto his intertwined hands as he voiced his biggest fear.

"What if Bruce won't let me be Robin anymore?"

He spoke so quietly that, even with his super hearing, Clark had to lean in closer to catch what was said.

The idea that Batman would give up his Robin was absurd. Bruce himself said he didn't know how he ever did it without his little friend.

"because you can't beat the bully?" Dick nodded. "Dick, there's no way he'd do that. I've seen you take down thieves and villains twice your size and you've definitely saved my skin more than once. I doubt we could do what we do without you."

Dick raised his tear stained face and the cautious hope in his eyes broke Clark. He pulled the Boy Wonder into a hug.

...

One week later Dick Grayson and Wally West were the coolest kids in school. It seemed that being picked up at the end of the day by the Batmobile can seriously improve a kids social standing.

The two enjoyed their new popularity. Of course they did, it meant they weren't constantly looking over their shoulders. Dick and Wally forgave their bully's, but they would never consider their new-found fans as friends.

True friends stick with you through thick and thin.

Even if it means they get a bruise or two for their trouble.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N:** So this one was a prompt, yay!_

_(Pigwidgeon:  
Sooooo, a prompt: Candy visits Batman to apologize, she has "changed")._

_I must say, those quote marks gave me a lot of food for thought. I almost didn't add in the last line. In the end I took a leaf out of Two-Faces book and flipped a coin. So yea, if you don't like the ending just ignore the last line and we should be okay, okay?_

_As always, prompts are more than welcome!_

_I'm gonna shut up now, enjoy! (I hope)_

* * *

Bruce Wayne was a man of many talents, but patience was not one of them. This is why he could be found pacing the Batcave on a sunny Thursday afternoon. He had spent the morning installing new turbo boosters for the Baplane, something he had been looking forward to since he ordered them from Japan. If only he hadn't promised Dick he would wait for him to get home from school before he took it for a spin.

Bruce would probably have paced all day, were it not for the cough. He whipped around to see a small, brown-haired woman in ripped jeans and a T-shirt stood uncertainly in the entrance.

"Who are you? And how did you get into the Batcave?"

The woman, more like a girl really, she couldn't have been much older than eighteen, bit her lip and shuffled her shoes.

"Your butler let me in."

Bruce froze. He had heard that voice before. Just once. But it was still undoubtedly...

"_You?_"

She nodded.

"What are you doing here? You were with Sweet Tooth! His..?"

"Girlfriend? Slave? Both?"

"Well, yeah."

Bruce was both confused and a little annoyed at himself. Sure he had 'not saved' Sweet Tooth but how had he forgotten to go after Candy? More pressingly why was she here? Was she looking to avenge the candy prince of crime? Bruce's hand twitched automatically to his belt before he remembered his Batsuit was in the wash. All that met his fingers was the cool leather band holding up the scruffy jeans he threw on when tinkering with oily engines. Great, so here he was, weaponless, against the ex-girlfriend of his most well known nemesis. He really needed to speak to Alfred about who he let into the house.

"Sorry, I should just go. I.. I really shouldn't have come."

Bruce snapped out of his thoughts as she turned to go.

"No, I mean, you don't _have_ to go... If you don't want to I mean."

Candy turned back with a small smile, where she stood in the dim light of the doorway, Bruce could almost make out the villains girlfriend beneath the fairly normal looking outer shell.

Then she stepped back into the light and the moment passed.

"Well, I guess I really came down here to say... Sorry."

Bruce was taken aback. That was the last thing he had been expecting.

"Sorry?"

She nodded sadly, staring at her laces and chewing her lip again.

"For everything. For what Steven did..."

"Wait, Steven? Who's that?"

"Sweet Tooth," she practically spat. "Real name, Steven Thomas."

"No kidding. So is your name really..."

"Candy? 'fraid so." she wrinkled up her nose. Bruce could tell she hated it. "Blame my fool of a mother. She thought it was _cute_" the young girl shuddered.

"It's not _that_ bad," said Bruce fairly "but I still don't get why you're here. I didn't think super villains apologised."

Candy frowned, she seemed to be struggling to say something. Bruce felt a pang of something like sympathy for the girl, sure she had done some terrible stuff but now, without the vivid hair and flamboyant clothing she suddenly seemed human, vulnerable.

"Why don't you take a seat?" Bruce gestured to the desk chair and Candy hesitated for a second before dropping into it. From Bruce's height standing over her she seemed smaller than ever.

"I never wanted to be a villain." she blurted out suddenly, terror filling her face the moment the words left her.

She seemed to flinch into the chair before realising that no-one was angry and sitting up a little straighter. Bruce didn't say a word, knowing in some cases it is easier to just wait and let a person speak in their own time. It was the same with getting Dick to talk about some of the billionaires that had taken him in over the years. Assaulting Candy with the many questions buzzing around his brain would only succeed in driving her back into her shell. Sure enough, after a couple of minutes silence she took a deep, slightly shaky breath and began to talk.

She told Bruce everything, right from the day she had met Steven Thomas, in a candy store of course, how he had become a friend and, a little later, more than a friend. Bruce, for his part, nodded at all the right moments and kept a lid on his numerous questions. He was surprised to hear just how _normal_ Sweet Tooth had once been. He had worked in a bank. He had had blond hair and a soft laugh, not the blue cotton candy frizz and manic cackle Bruce had known.

He almost found himself liking the man.

Candy stopped talking abruptly, shrinking back into the chair and looking for all the world as if she wanted to sink right through it.

"So what happened to him?" Bruce asked gently, breaking his silence for the first time.

"I don't know." she choked "He came home one day and he seemed kinda off, next thing I know his hair is blue and he's got a couple of grunts following him round like lost puppies. Then he starts buying me things... A piece of jewellery, clothes, the shoes I wanted. Little things, but things I knew he couldn't afford on his salary. He would come home late and sleep all day."

One fat tear dropped down her cheek, running the length of her nose before disappearing into the corner of her mouth. It was followed by a second and a third.

Then, and neither knew how it happened, Candy was sobbing onto Bruce's shoulder. He patted her back awkwardly, comforting distraught women was another skill Bruce Wayne was distinctly lacking. Sure he had had girlfriends before, lots of them, but they had only ever known the Bruce he showed the world. They had never cried. Here was a girl he had only met once before, when she seemed intent on killing him and his best friend, and she probably knew the real him better than any of the girls he had ever gone out with. The notion made him feel strangely naked. No smoke and mirrors to hide himself this time.

The two were silent for a long while, each wrapped in their own thoughts, taking small comfort from the closeness of their two bodies. Eventually Candy seemed to cry herself out, leaning back to smile sheepishly at Bruce.

"Sorry about that." she whispered. "So, Bruce Wayne, huh? Don't think anyone would see that one coming. You always seem like such a..."

"A selfish jerk who locks himself away counting his ridiculously large inheritance while the people of Gotham have to resort to racketeering to make ends meet?"

"Well, yeah."

Bruce nodded, he knew how the general public saw him. It wasn't pleasant, not by a long shot, but it was necessary. It kept people away, prevented awkward questions.

"So, why? Why do you do it? It's not like you have much to do with the citizens of Gotham."

Bruce frowned, how could he explain it?

"Did you ever hear about that double murder? Happened just outside the theatre seventeen years ago?"

"I think so. What has that got to do with it?"

"Everything. You know, they were a family. Husband and wife, going to the theatre with... with their son."

"Yeah, but..." Candy looked, wide eyed, at Bruce as she realised. "Oh."

Bruce just nodded. Talking about his parents always gave him pains in his chest, but she had told him things that she found it hard to think about. It was only fitting that he should repay in kind.

He briefly entertained the possibility that telling his arch nemesis's partner in crime personal details about himself was not the most sensible course if action, but this was quickly forgotten.

He didn't know what it was, but something about her told him this time she was different.

This time she had really changed.

He never saw the knife coming…


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N:** So this is something I've never done before. A sequel! Originally I wasn't gonna do any but a prompt is a prompt (plus I also really wanted to know what happened next) :D_

_memberofWLM:_

_No! No! Bruce! Maybe for the next one shot being Clark and Dick visiting him in the hospital :)_

_So, as requested, this one follows on from the last chapter!_

* * *

Clark shook his head.

He was being stupid.

It was just a building, just bricks and cement, concrete and metal.

Just a building.

He sat in the car and took a deep breath.

He was a goddamn superhero, why was this so hard?

"Clark? You okay?" Dick looked up at him, eyes reflecting his own worry and, although he would later deny it, fear.

A few days had passed since Bruce had had his run in with Candy. Clark didn't know any details, only that his best friend was hurt. Really hurt.

Clark hated hospitals.

"Are we gonna go in?"

A part of him wanted to say no. To turn around and run. Make an excuse. Why is there never a crime going on when you need an excuse? He didn't want to go in because he didn't want to see. It was stupid, childish even, but he felt that if he didn't see Bruce injured then he wouldn't be. But life doesn't work like that, and Dick was still looking at him...

"Okay, let's go."

Bruce was sat up in bed, gazing around his private hospital room. Alfred was dozing in a chair by the window, ever faithful he had not left Bruce's side since he was admitted. Bruce shifted slightly on the bed, it hurt like hell but he would grin and bear it. Dick was visiting today; he didn't want him to worry too much. Clark too, but Clark was a grown man, a superman even. He wouldn't worry as much.

Dick was first through the door, bounding up to the bed and rousing the sleepy butler at the same time. He clambered into the chair next to the bed and immediately launched into an explanation of a school project he had been set on superheroes. Bruce laughed softly so as not to agitate his already tender midriff, glancing up as Clark slipped awkwardly into the room and shut the door. He stood, staring at his shoes as Dick continued talking. All the time feeling the eyes boring into the top of his head.

Bruce could see that Clark was upset, the man hadn't so much as looked at him since he came in. Taking advantage of Dick pausing for breath he addressed his butler.  
"Say, Alfred. Why don't you go get a coffee or something, you look like you need it. You can take Dick with you." the young boy looked about to protest. Until...  
"I hear they have Motts juice boxes."

The pair shuffled out, leaving Bruce and Clark quite alone.

Clark walked over to look out the window, staring at but not quite seeing the neat rows of colourful flowers that bordered the hospital gardens.

"Clark? Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Clark addressed the window sill in a voice most unlike his own. "It's just... Yeah, I'm fine."

"Look at me. Clark, look, I'm ok."

"I know you are." Is he psychic or something?

"Clark." Bruce reached over and caught hold of his wrist.

Slowly, unwillingly, yet seemingly without conscious thought, as though pulled by the weak hold on his wrist. Clark turned around. Bruce smiled up at him, crisp white sheets came up to his armpits, effectively concealing the bandages that covered his torso.

"See. I'm not saying I could go run a marathon. But I'm alive. I'm recovering."

Clark ran a critical eye over his best friend. Having X-ray vision, he could see the bandages beneath the sheets. But Bruce was right. He really was okay.

"I never said you weren't"

"But you were thinking it."

"No I wasn't!"

"Uh huh." Bruce did not look convinced.

Definitely psychic.


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N:** Woo another prompt!_

_Pigwidgeon:  
So I had another idea but I can't really write it 'cause I know nothing about Batman... But if you want another prompt, how 'bout this: The Riddler (Merediff, yay!) used to be constantly teased about looking feminine, so he became a villain. Ya, there's an idea..._

_So here goes! Also, any Batman knowledge I appear to have is gained from a combination of the musical, a friend who knows a lot more about it than I do and Batman wiki. Just so you know. :D  
_

* * *

"He's such a _girl_."  
"Man up!"  
"Jeez, Edward. You're such a _woman_."  
"Nice hair, _lady_!"

The taunts followed Edward, even when no-one was speaking. The words echoed through his thoughts practically 24/7. It drove him mad but what could he do? It was the looks they gave him. He knew they were thinking it. Even now he could still hear them. Sat in his room, trying to complete his English assignment.

He was a small boy, always the shortest in his class. Long hair fell in his eyes as the strands escaped the ponytail he always trapped it in, his mother had some very strange beliefs, one of which forbade him from cutting his hair. This, combined with the fact he was the only boy in his year whose voice hadn't broken and that his chin was as smooth as a baby's bottom had lead him to this.

The loner.

The weirdo.

The common ground.

For everyone, no matter who, knew that 'Hey, at least you're cooler than Edward'. He knew this well. There was a pecking order. Like ranks. The jocks and cheerleaders, they sat at the top. A bit further down came the regular kids. The ones who were just _there_. Then, right near the bottom, geeks, followed by Freshman geeks. Edward was somewhere on par with the Freshman geeks.

It was the same in the real world, the pecking order. Only, in the real world, your place in the ranks was based, not on how many goals you could score or push ups you could do. It's all about the money. Being at the bottom in both worlds, Edward worked this out early.

Because Edward was clever, very clever. By the age of three he could write fluently. He could solve any problem put in front of him and even made up his own, just because he knew no-one could solve it. At his current age of sixteen he had skipped two grades, meaning he would be joining the rest of the graduating Seniors in a few weeks time.

But then what? Edward had no idea. His mother wanted him to go to university. Not for his own good, not to further his qualifications. She wanted him out of the house. His father couldn't care less. Edward was not a manly man. It wasn't that he was girly or anything, but he did not play soccer or help fix cars or whatever sons are supposed to do. That was all his father cared about.

Edward knew what he wanted in life.  
- He wanted to be at the top.  
- He wanted to get back at everyone who had ever shoved him and called him a girl.  
- He wanted to show them just how strong he was. How powerful he could be.  
- He wanted to put his considerable intellect to good use.

It was a puzzle.  
Money, revenge and stimulation.  
If Edward could only think of a solution that covered all three.

It was a tricky one to solve. But Edward had never failed at a riddle yet…


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N:** So this person gave me two prompts. This is the first, the other will be up whenever I've written it but probably soon because I have nothing to do this week :D_

_BlondeRavenclaw: Catwoman and Poison Ivy discuss the new Rogue girl, Candy (it can be positive or negative I don't mind)_

_I went with a bit of both…_

* * *

"Who does she think she is?"

"Who?"

"That new girl! Follows ST round like a little lost puppy."

"Candy?" Poison Ivy looked over at her friend in the mirror. Catwoman was stood touching up her lipstick between Dinner and Pudding. She was also scowling.

"Yeah, _her_" she spat.

"She's not that bad. She's actually pretty sweet, no pun intended."

"_Sweet?_ She's a manipulative bitch!"

"What?" Poison Ivy dried her hands and leant against the sink in the small restroom. "How did you work that one out?"

"She just _is_! She's got ST wrapped around her little finger, it's disgusting!"

"So you're jealous?"

Catwoman spluttered, immediately confirming suspicions that Poison Ivy had had for a while, ever since Sweet Tooth had burst into their meeting last week and given her friend that lollypop. She had a thing for the Candy Prince of Crime.

"Jealous? Of what? Her… her crazy hair? Her _bad_ dress sense? You know, I bet she only dresses like that to copy Sweet Tooth."

"Or maybe he dresses like that because she does…"

Catwoman scowled all the more.

"But she doesn't even do anything. She's just _there_ you know? Like all the rest of us have actually _done_ things. Do you know how many chemicals I had to steal to make this warhead? A lot! But she's just following Sweet Tooth around and doing nothing!"

Poison Ivy let her vent. There was no way she could get a word in edgeways while Catwoman was throwing a hissy fit anyway.

She had just taken a breath to continue her rant when one of the doors to the toilet stalls opened and both women jumped, neither of them had realised there was anyone else in the room.

What if they had overheard Catwoman mention the warhead?

Their relief at seeing the familiar blue and pink hair quickly turned to horror.

Candy had heard everything.

The newest Rogue smiled at them as she walked over to the washbasins, completely ignoring the look of barely disguised disgust aimed her way by Catwoman.

"Candy" began Poison Ivy. "I…"

"Are you guys done? We don't want to miss out on Pudding, I've been eyeing up that cheesecake all evening!" Candy grinned and headed out the door leaving Catwoman and Poison Ivy staring after her dumbfounded.

Had she not heard them?

Surely she had, they weren't exactly keeping their voices down.

When they got back to the table a minute later Candy was nowhere to be seen but there were two new men at their table. Both were large and wore vivid colours similar to Candy and ST.

"Ah! Here they are!" Exclaimed Sweet Tooth from his seat at the head of the table "Allow me to introduce Gob and Joe. They're _Bounty_ hunters of sorts, interested joining our little _spree_." He waved absently to where the two sat.

It wasn't until Catwoman and Poison Ivy had taken their seats that Candy returned with drinks for

Gob and Joe. Of course, with these two new additions there were not enough chairs.

Without missing a beat Sweet Tooth pulled Candy onto his lap.

"C'mere _Dove_"

Poison Ivy felt Catwoman bristle beside her, practically hissing across the table.

"You may not like her," she muttered "but he clearly does. Surely you want him to be happy?"

Catwoman nodded reluctantly, before looking up to see Candy feeding Sweet Tooth a forkful of Cheesecake because his hands were occupied stopping her sliding onto the floor.


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N:** aaaaaand here's the second prompt _

_BlondeRavenclaw: the superfriends throw a 'we just saved the city' party._

_Also memberofWLM requested more superbat so there's a little of that here too._

* * *

Superman leant back in his favourite armchair and looked contentedly around at the assembled Superfriends. Sweet Tooth was gone, the city had been saved and Green Lantern had deemed it the perfect excuse to have a 'we just saved the city' party. They had had a good turnout, Green Lantern, Spiderman, Wonderwoman, Batman and Robin had all jumped at the chance to meet up with all their new chums without the threat of a nuclear warhead or supervillain to put a dampener on the fun. Conversation was good and drinks flowed freely. As a superhero the drink didn't have much of an effect on Superman, meaning he was having great time watching the others fall over. It seemed that, no matter how much he consumed, the Green Lanterns ability to pull beer out of thin air was never hampered.

Superman watched happily as Batman recreated his fight with Sweet Tooth, using Spiderman as a stand-in for the supervillan and jumping on the coffee table to explain his point. Spiderman fell off the table and onto the floor to applause from his audience before bouncing back to his feet to take a bow.

Eventually people started to head home. Spidermans aunt stopped by to pick him up at about midnight, she was not happy. Apparently Peter Parker had school in the morning. The Green Lantern took off a few minutes later, apparently the Guardians just couldn't wait 'til tomorrow. His leaving effectively put a stop to the drinking.

Superman went to show Wonderwoman out, stood on the doorstep she turned to him.

"So, this was fun. We should let the GL talk us into having parties more often." She put a hand on his shoulder and looked him right in the eyes. Suddenly seeming more sober than she had all evening. "He's cute, Clark. But if you don't do something soon I will."

Then the moment passed and she took off, leaving Superman stood staring after her, deep in thought. How did she know? Did everyone else know? Had they seen his eyes stray during the course of the evening? He shook his head, shut the door and returned to the living room.

Batman was sat in his chair and Robin and Krypto lay on the hearth rug, curled around each other in a tangle of sidekicks. Fast asleep. The two had been playing fetch all evening and chasing each other around the fortress. Superman took a moment to remember the scene before gathering the dirty plates spread across the coffee table.

Batman heard Superman leave the room and was just getting up to follow when a phone rang. He grabbed it and answered.

"Hello? Superman?" Came a voice from the phone.

"No, this is Supermans friend. I'll get him for you. Yo! Supes! You got a phone call motherfucka!"

Superman emerged from the kitchen, drying his soapy hands on the corner of his cape. He accepted the phone from Batman's outstretched fingers.

"Thanks, Bats. Hello? Oh, Mr President. What a surprise! How's the wife? Uh huh. Uh huh. Okay. Great, I'll be there. Okay, bye." Superman hung up and dropped his phone on the table again. Batman looked at him expectantly.

"His wife is fine and I gotta go to some dumbass ceremony tomorrow."

"Hey, dumbass ceremony's aren't all bad."

"Oh yeah? Name one that you've had fun at."

"Well... There was the one where we met. Remember?"

Superman laughed. "How could I forget?" He flopped backwards into the sofa "You were jealous of my power and stormed off."

"and you were an arrogant douchebag"

"You know the people of Gotham tried to shoot me after you left."

Batman laughed "How'd you piss them off"

"I said you weren't that great" Superman felt bad saying that now but Batman didn't seem fazed.

"You were right, but it's nice that they care."

They trailed off into silence, both lost in their own thoughts. For instance, Clark was, once again, thinking about Wonderwomans parting words. Should he say something? What if he didn't feel the same? Would it stop them being friends? He looked over at Bruce, his first proper friend, and made up his mind. He wouldn't say anything. He didn't want to ruin their friendship.

The only thing he had to worry about now was what Wonderwoman would do…


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N:** Okay, I know the last one ended on kind of a cliff-hanger and I was asked very nicely (looking at you _Moonshoes94_ and _urNotPERMITTEDtoTOUCH_) so yes, I have done a sequal. There is a fair amount of Superbat. Yay!_

* * *

"So, is everyone clear on the plan?" Wonderwoman looked around the huddle. Alfred and Dick was nodding but the Green Lantern still looked confused. "The GL? You understand?"

"Ye-no. Not really."

Wonderwoman heaved a sigh and explained again. "Ok?"

"Got it!"

"Good. Now, the time is..." she glanced at her watch "1500 hours. They should be here any minute. Places!"

Alfred grabbed his duster, ready to pretend to be dusting.

Dick grabbed a book, ready to pretend to be reading.

The Green Lantern and Wonderwoman ran out the door, ready to pretend they weren't there.

The moments seemed to tick past all too slowly, as moments have a tendency to do when one is waiting for something. They stretched longer than should be possible, building up the anticipation to the point that the footsteps on the stairs made both Dick and Alfred jump.

"Hey Al, Dick." Bruce Wayne greeted the pair as he entered the main study, followed closely by Clark Kent who was looking curiously around at the decor. So far he had never had the chance to visit Wayne Manor, most Superfriends meetings (and parties) were held at the Fortress.

"Good afternoon Master Bruce, Master Clark. I trust your ceremony went well."

"As well as these boring ceremonies can go. I'm gonna show Clark around the Batcave, coming Dick?"

Dick started and looked up from his book. He wasn't all that good at being put on the spot. Luckily Alfred came to his aid.

"Actually, I rather think Master Dick was hoping to finish his book." Dick nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"Oh. Ok, well, come down when you finish, yeah?"

"Ok, Bruce." he managed in reply but the two men were already heading through the concealed door. As the old clock slid back into place both Alfred and Dick heaved a sigh of relief. Between them they managed to heave the enormous Mahogany desk in front of the clock. Now there was no way Bruce could open it before the others did their part.

Dick ran to the window, signalling the GL.

The Green Lantern was crouched in the bushes next to the Batmobile entrance. His job was simple. Pass the message on to Wonderwoman once the pair got into the Batcave.  
"Operation Superbat phase one, complete."

Wonderwoman had arguably the toughest job. She currently sat crouched behind the Batmobile, watching.

She saw Bruce and Clark step out of the elevator.

She saw Clarks jaw drop as he took in the sheer size of the Batcave.

She saw Bruce shrug as though it was no big deal, but she also saw his eyes light up as Clark complemented his secret lair.

It would have been quite easy to watch them be clueless all afternoon. Instead she inched closer and closer to her goal.

The big red button that read "EMERGENCY LOCKDOWN".

Just another seven feet...

Four feet...

Three...

Yes!

The klaxon sounded, echoing off the walls in the confined space of the workshop. Like a sprinter from the starting blocks Wonderwoman ran. Doubled over through the garage and then flat out up the ramp. Slipping out of the Batcave just before the steel emergency door slammed into place right where her foot had been a second before.

Success. Now all they had to do was sit and wait for Bruce and Clark to talk. Really talk.

...

Down in the cave Bruce was typing wildly. Had someone set off the alarm? Was Alfred playing a prank on him? Or was it just a system malfunction?

Clark, on the other hand, was putting his sensitive hearing to good use. Stood at the bottom of the lift shaft he could hear echoes of a conversation in the room above.

"... feel kinda bad for them."

"We'll let them out. Just not until they get their act together."

"Yeah, I mean, neither of them have the guts to say it under normal circumstances. They've been skirting round it for weeks. For so called heroes they're not all that brave."

"Besides, I did warn Supes that if he didn't do something I will."

So this was all Wonderwomans idea, Clark wasn't surprised.

"Calm down, Bruce. It's Wonderwoman playing tricks on us."

Bruce looked up from his typing, obviously relieved. Neither of them fancied being locked in the dark with some unknown foe.

"Any indication on when they plan to let us out? You know this thing only unlocks from the outside."

"Nope, and why only the outside?"

"Dunno, made sense at the time." Bruce pulled a face and began rooting through a large crate in the corner of the room. Throwing things to the side until he had extracted a large rug and a half empty packet of Redvines.

"Unfortunately the Batfridge is in the other half of the cave and thanks to the lockdown we can't get to it, but, I do keep some things in here for when I'm fixing up the Batmobile."

He held out the pack and Clark accepted a Redvine, chewing but barely tasting as his stomach started doing backflips. How could he get out of this one? He knew Wonderwoman would stick to her word. There was no way he could get her to let them out unless he broke his own rule. The one that stopped him ruining his friendship with Bruce.

Not only that, he was also starting to register just how low the ceilings were, how close the walls seemed.

"This... uh... this cave is kinda small. Isn't it?"

Bruce threw himself down on the rug and chuckled. "Never would have thought Superman could have claustrophobia."

Clark dropped down beside him. "I do _not_ have claustrophobia! I just don't like confined spaces." He crossed his legs and arms tightly.

"Suuure you don't." Bruce handed him a bottle of water which was reluctantly accepted.

"So what do you do down here all day? Alfred tells me you practically live down here."

"He's not wrong. Mostly I clean the cars, listen in to police radios, don't tell anyone but I also play computer games, tweet, I have loads of fake Twitter accounts."

"Oh yeah? Like who?"

"Barack Obama and...you." Bruce muttered, blushing slightly and looking away.

"Wait, you're the asshole who just tweets about how dumb I am?"

"No!" Bruce protested. "Well, yes, but I don't tweet about you being dumb anymore. Cause you're not dumb."

Clark smiled. He wasn't really mad at Bruce but he would definitely milk this as long as he could. In the blink of an eye he whipped out his phone and pulled up the fake Superman account on twitter.

"Look, see here 'Reason 394 Superman is dumb: He smells like poop'"

"Yeah, but look at the most recent ones."

"Okay.. 'Everyone go follow therealsuperman awesome guy and my best friend!'"

"Yeah, lost like twenty followers because if that one." but Bruce was smiling and so was Clark. He scrolled through some more of the recent tweets.

_'Reason 17 Superman is awesome: he can pull off tights and a cape better than anyone else'_

_'Reason 32 Superman is awesome: he flys faster than a supersonic jet'_

_' therealsuperman just saved the city again! Go follow him!'_

By this point Clark was beaming so wide he felt his face might split. In fact, were it not for the continued feeling of fear in the pit of his stomach he would have been quite content. But still he had the bubbling nerves that constantly asked him if/when/how he was going to broach the subject.

He was saved the trouble when his phone buzzed in his hand, signalling a text from Wonderwoman:

_'Hurry up and tell him. Alfred made a pot of tea and it's getting cold.'_

"Who's that?"

"Wonderwoman."

"What's she got to say for herself? Planning on letting us out yet?" Before Clark had a chance to protest, Bruce had leant over and whipped the phone out if his hand.

"…Tell me what?"

"Nothing, just... just..." Clark trailed off into silence.

"Hey, it's just me," Bruce put his hand on Clarks, squeezing gently. "You can tell me anything, you know that. But you gotta speak up a bit cause I don't have super-hearing"

He probably thought he was helping, and he sort of was, but mostly all the comforting hand did to Clark was increase the panicky fluttering in his chest and make his head spin. How sad was that? He could take on all manner of supervillain but one touch from Bruce turned him into a flaily mess.

He took a deep breath. Surely that would help calm him down? Or maybe not. Now all he could smell was Bruce. He must look like a right weirdo now, if the looks of concern he was being given were any indication.

"What is it Clark?"

"Ok.. She just.. I.. Um." he cast around for the right words but they just weren't there.

The walls of the Batcave offered no guidance and now he couldn't even see the walls because Bruce's face was so close it blocked everything else out and...

The hand holding his squeezed tighter as Bruce rose to his knees and captured Clarks lips with his own.

It didn't matter that words had failed them both.

Sometimes words are not enough.

Sometimes it's easier to just show what you mean.

Sometimes it's good to break a rule or two.

...

Several hundred meters above their heads, four friends let out a cheer.

Finally.


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N: **Hello! This one's written kinda like an e-mail or text or something_

_Pigwidgeon:  
Hola, back with yet another prompt! And Imma make this one a humor prompt 'cause my last two were kinda angsty. So here we go: The Calendar Man incident from the TGI Friday's worker's (Meredith's) POV. Except the details are SUPER over-exaggerated. :) Have fun with that!_

* * *

Hi Courtney,

You will not believe what happened to me today!

So, I was at work, handing out menus, welcoming diners. The usual.

Then, I turn around to the customer who just walked in and I thought he was waiting for a table but guess who it was? _Calendar Man!_ And he had this great big ENOURMOUS GUN and he pointed it RIGHT AT ME!  
So obviously I screamed, _duh_, the guy had a GUN pointed at me.

He was all like _"Fill this pillowcase with the old stuff on the walls."_ But I told him _"No, they're not on the menu"_ and I stood up to him, even though he was like shooting RIGHT AT MY HEAD!. I swear, if he was a better shot he SO would have hit me! It's like my whole life flashed in front of my eyes and, to be honest with you it was a little scary.

Right after that Batman and that kid that follows him showed up and started fighting with him so Calendar Man made me HOLD HIS GUN! Madness, right? I know I should have run away but I actually couldn't move, I was SO scared. It was amazing, they were fighting for ages and I was just stood there. Batman won eventually, I think he actually KILLED Calendar Man but he really needs to do something about that kid that was with him. The tiny little bird boy, I forget his name. Either way he sucks. He was like _crying_ the whole time and barely even touched the guy.

So yeah, then Batman punched me, in the face. It was awesome. Dunno what happened after that, I guess the cops must have shown up to move the body or whatever. Had the weirdest dream though. There were all these new villains, the ones that keep showing up all of a sudden. They were all dancing and Batman and the little kid were like _singing_.

Crazy… right?


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N: **  
10RunBabyRun8312:  
Can you maybe do a Bruce/Selina or Batman/Catwoman one, please? :D_

_It's sort of both…_

* * *

Bruce Wayne tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his freshly pressed shirt. It was all very well that he donated money to these people, but why did he then have to go to some fancy gala thing? Surely they should reward his generosity, not torture him for it!

He shoved his hands deeper into his pocket as he attempted to make small talk with people he didn't like, one hand curled around his communicator and the other cradling the keys to the Batmobile. He could be out if here in ten seconds flat, he had even cooked up an excuse for his leaving. If only someone would commit a crime. The silence on the street was due, in part, to the fact a good portion of the big fat cat crooks were at the gala with him but c'mon! Not even a mugging?

Just when he thought nothing could improve his evening there was a ruckus at the door. Upon investigation Bruce found a young woman trying to gain entry without an invitation. She had been stopped by the security guards. Sensing a potential source of entertainment Bruce stepped into the light if the hallway.

"What's going on here?"

"Oh sir," the younger guard practically fell over at being addressed directly. "This young lady was apprehended trying to sneak into the gala, sir."

The woman in question wore a floor length black dress adorned with a small brooch and stood glaring at the guards.

"No need to worry gentlemen. This is my plus-one for the evening. Did I forget to mention she was running late?"

The guards looked dubious but stood aside, allowing the woman to sweep past them and attach herself to Bruce's arm. If she was surprised by the turn of events she didn't show it.

Rounding the corner and out of sight of the guards she dropped the arm in her grasp as though it was poisonous.

"You're welcome." prompted Bruce as she did little but stare at him. Head tilted and eyes narrowed she looked like a feline preparing to pounce.

"Why?"

"Did I let you in? Simple. I am very bored."

"So... what? Am I supposed to entertain you somehow?"

"Not at all." replied Bruce smoothly "I was simply wondering if I might have a dance partner who doesn't pinch my cheeks and tell me I've grown since she last saw me."

The woman frowned at that. Clearly not the reaction she was expecting.

"Yeah. All the rich old ladies here knew.. my parents." he paused for a second, then shook his head. "They still treat me as if I'm five. Oh the woes of being young and handsome." he smirked.

The woman rolled her eyes but accepted the hand he offered her and allowed herself to be lead out onto the dance floor where a string quartet were playing something slow and boring.

"So," he muttered as they began twirling their way around the dance floor. "You never told me your name."

"No"

"Are you gonna?"

She sighed "It's Selina."

"Selina," he repeated. As though testing out how the word fell from his tongue. "Pretty name. Mine's..."

"Bruce Wayne. Born billionaire. Orphan. Gives generously to charities but other than that no-one knows what you do."

Bruce chuckled. "You sure do your research. Do you know the life story of the other guests or is that privilege reserved just for me?"

"Don't flatter yourself, darling." she practically purred. "I know everyone's dirtiest little secrets."

Bruce raised an eyebrow disbelievingly.

"Blue hat and flowered handbag? **Mrs Hepziba Smith. Turns out her nephew fancies himself as quite the _vigilante_. Then there's grey hair and impressive moustache. **Sir Patrick Delany-Podmore. His daughter moved back in with him last week. Apparently they're already driving each other _batty_."

Bruce nodded, she really did do her research. The next question would be...

"Why?"

"Well, he's blind as a _bat_ and she's getting in a _flap_ about..."

"No, I mean why research all this? Why are you here?"

She smiled slightly, leaning in closer to whisper in his ear.

"Ask me no questions, Mr Wayne, and I'll tell you no lies."

Then the song ended and she released him, melting away into the crowd and leaving Bruce to wonder. Why did he recognise that voice?

…

It puzzled him. But it wasn't until a week later that it finally clicked.

Batman was chasing down a thief caught stealing diamonds through the grounds of a large house. The culprit was fast, but he finally managed to corner him, with the help of his trusty side-kick Robin, of course. The two advanced on their target as he tried in vain to scrabble up the wall behind him.

Finally, sensing defeat, the thief turned to face them.

"Ok, you got me. I'll come quietly."

That wasn't a man. That was a woman, up close he could easily see that. A woman with a very familiar voice.

"You!"

"Me" she barely batted an eyelid. "What's the matter Bruce? Realising your mistake?"

That's when it hit him. The covert glances around the ballroom. The cat shaped brooch. They were in the grounds of the very house he had met her in. She never told him why she was there. That means…

"You were scoping out the house. Checking out the security systems."

"Veeeeeeery good" the Catwoman purred.

"Why?"

"I have certain… items… that I need to acquire. These things cost money."

"Well, not any more. The only place you're going is straight to Commissioner Gordon."

Selina smiled softy. "Oh, no. I don't want that."

Before either Batman or Robin could blink she had thrown her bag at their feet and grabbed hold of a rope that had fallen over the wall. She disappeared into the night.

The diamonds were in the bag and Batman was, once again, hailed as a hero for rescuing them. Little did the citizens of Gotham know that he was the one who had almost gotten them stolen in the first place.


	11. Chapter 11

**_A/N:_**_ Wow! Feel like I haven't updated in ages, sorry! The big excuse is that I was on holiday with questionable wifi but I return bearing gifts (or new chapters at any rate). During my time with no proper wifi I managed to work on previous prompts so those will be going up asap (so as soon as I've decided they make sense) Yay!_

_memberofWLM:  
I have a prompt! Maybe the rouges (cat woman,calender man, the riddler etc) and their reasons why they chose to join Sweet Tooth_

* * *

Catwoman liked Sweet Tooth. There was just something about him. The moment he started speaking everyone took notice. She was a cat burglar by trade, not one for big schemes and elaborate planning. All she needed was something to steal and someone to steal it for. So she had no objection to Sweet Tooth waltzing in and taking over from Penguin.

Calendar Man had been told on many occasions that he gave the rogues of Gotham a bad name. It was always something. The hat. The cape. The silly theme. Other rogues just didn't like him. When Sweet Tooth came along he was finally accepted. Anyone and everyone was welcome. Lame theme or not.

Riddler was a fan of puzzles. He enjoyed anything from code-breaking to cryptic crosswords. Unfortunately he was too good. The Sudoku in the newspaper just didn't cut it anymore. So he took to deciphering people. So much better. People have many layers, plenty of causes both conscious and otherwise. Why do they act as they do? Where did they learn to be angry, vindictive or cruel? The rogues were perfect for this pass-time but soon he would run out. Sweet Tooth could prove to be his biggest puzzle yet. Why kill the bat? Why with a nuclear warhead? And what's with all the candy?

Penguin never wanted to be in charge. That was always the Jokers job. Penguin was perfectly happy to just follow. But when Batman killed the Joker pandemonium broke out in the rogues gallery so he had to step in. Of course, then everyone looked to him for the planning and scheming, something he was terrible at. When Sweet Tooth offered to step in with proof of his villainy and a plan already fully formed Penguin had no problem with handing him the reins.

Scarecrow worked in a particular way. Put simply he would tag along with the biggest bully in the playground. As a child this would be the big kid who shoved other kids heads down the loo. Scarecrow made a good lookout. The bullies got bigger. Eventually rogues such as the Joker would fill the role. Strong, successful and in control, enough so that Scarecrow could gain reputation by associating with them but by ducking out just in time he would never be dragged down when they failed. Once the Joker was no longer an option, Scarecrow needed someone new to latch on to. That was when Sweet Tooth showed up.

Two-Face did not like Sweet Tooth. Actually, more accurately, he didn't care about the candy villain. He was too busy to care, bank robberies don't plan themselves! He had maps to read, puns to write. Who cares about whoever's in charge of the council of rogues? It changes at least once a week anyway. The only thing this Sweet Tooth was useful for was the free publicity.


	12. Chapter 12

_**A/N: **So I was all set to edit and post this like three weeks ago, then I had laptop… issues. Long story short my keyboard died and the laptop (with all my fanfiction on) had to go to be repaired. Sorry!_

_A Reviewer:  
How about a little humour piece about Two face robbing the 2nd national bank (on the 2nd of February)?_

* * *

The alarm beeped twice before a hand landed on it with a crunch-thump. Two-Face rolled clumsily to his feet, rubbing both hands into his mismatched eyes in an attempt to rid them of sleep. He stumped into the kitchen and set the kettle to boil and threw some bread in the toaster before consulting the calendar. February 2nd. He knew this date meant something, he had double circled it some weeks before. Two seconds later the kettle announced that it had reached the boil and the toaster began to smoke and smell of burning. He decided to look into it later.

Two weetabix and a second cup of coffee later the date was still puzzling him. It wasn't a birthday. It wasn't a public holiday. It WAS something to do with the number two, not that that was helpful. Most of his life was centred around the number two. From the number cereals in his bowl to the dates he picked out for his crimes.

Crimes. Like the plan to rob the second national bank of all its two dollar bills on... February second! That's what it was! Two face sprang to his feet and was soon brushing his teeth and hair at the same time. The theft was planned for two minutes past 2pm. It was currently half eleven. He was gonna be so late!

He actually managed to arrive at the bank as the clock tower in the town struck 2. Striding in and joining the short queue to the desk. He pulled his cap lower to fully conceal his mismatched face and waited as an elderly woman counted out dollars to pay some bill or other.

It took far too long. Two-face was tempted to just shoot her and be done with it. But he had a plan and he intended to stick to it.

The woman finally finished her transaction and tottered off to the side, leaving Two-Face to sidle up to the counter. The cashier was a youngish girl, clearly new to the job. Perfect.

"Listen very carefully." he growled, trying his best not to cough and ruin the effect. The voice hurt his throat but it was necessary. "You are going to take this case-" he thumped a large leather briefcase onto the desk and shoved it towards her "-and you are going to fill it with all of the two dollar bills in this bank." The girl hesitated and Two-Face carefully levelled a gun at her forehead whilst twitching back his hat so she could see his face. The cashier gasped, clutching the briefcase to her chest like a child with a teddy bear. She trembled on the spot but nodded all the same.  
"I will accompany you to the vault, make sure you don't try anything funny. You will speak to no-one and tell no-one where you are going." he finished, left eye watering slightly with the effort of keeping up the gravelly voice.

The young cashier, terrified out of her wits with the combination of the gun now digging into her spine and the shock of seeing a man with looks such as his, lead Two-Face to the vault without question. She filled the case under the careful aim of the gun in his right hand, paper money rustling as each handful caught the tremors that shook the young girl fearing for her life.

He watched her move as fast as her shaky limbs allowed. He watched her flinch every time he so much as shifted his weight from foot to foot. He knew she would do anything he wanted right now. He knew the cops wouldn't be here for a while, he had gotten in pretty well undetected. The briefcase was full.

Time for some fun?

The police were baffled. They had collected the unfortunate bank worker some hours earlier after finding no trace of Two-Face. The team had managed to squeeze a statement out of her before letting her go home. That was not the baffling part. It was what she said had happened.

"Ok, so I get the two dollar bill bit. But what about all this?" Commissioner Gordon stabbed a finger at the list. "He may be a lunatic but why? Why in the name of apple sauce did he make her sing Boy Toy?"

…

Two-Face returned home that night to find his toaster had melted and burnt a hole in his kitchen counter.

All in all a successful bank robbery (minus the toaster thing).

…

Two weeks later a man was arrested after shop keepers became suspicious of him. He had been trying to pay for a toaster using only two dollar bills.

Two-Face never did get his toast. In prison they only ever serve porridge for breakfast.

* * *

_**A.N (again):** So yeah, dunno about humor piece, I'm not sure that I'm particularly funny. What did you think?_


	13. Chapter 13

_**A/N: **This is the last prompt I have lined up for now :( If anyone wants to send me more for HMB or Starship, cause I have a fic similar to this one over there, drop me a review!_

_Pigwidgeon:  
Anyway, another prompt: Just a conversation between the rogues (preferably Poison Ivy, Catwoman, Riddler, Scarecrow, Penguin, and Mr. Freeze) about how they don't really want to follow Sweet Tooth, but he's threatening blackmail. As many lame puns as possible!_

* * *

The room was dimly lit, all around was the sounds of snooker balls being hit and the creak of leather gun holsters. Not the most savory place for a meeting but the Rogues of Gotham hardly noticed, caught up as they were in their discussion. Much as business men complain about their boss over a pint in the local pub, the Rogues topic of discussion was their new leader, Sweet Tooth.

"All I'm saying is, it's a puzzle his teeth haven't all dropped out. Do you think he actually eats any of that candy?" Riddler appealed to his companions.

"Hardly, but that's not why we flocked here tonight." squawked Penguin, brandishing his umbrella.  
"That sugar coated criminal killed Chilly Willy and I believe I'm right in suggesting he's threatened us all with a similar roasting?"

There was a general murmur of agreement.

"Not to be catty about it, but when threatened with a de-clawing it's only natural for a kitty to want to lash out." Catwoman purred from the shadows, she sat half outside the shell of orange light cast by the lamp in the middle of the table stroking a cat that had somehow made it's way into her lap.

"You think that's bad? He's saying if I don't cool off he'll freeze my ice-cream allowance." intoned Mr Freeze moodily, arms folded across his chest and glaring at anyone who looked likely to laugh. No-one did, they all knew from experience how seriously the ice villain took his frozen foods.

"and that little girl that runs round after him. She stole my entire supply of fear toxin. She won't be afraid to use it either."

"We need to uproot this weed before it gets a firm hold. I'm all for letting him join us but not like this." Poison Ivy straightened the leaves in her hair and took a sip of her bright green cocktail.

"We could hand him over to the police, I mean, isn't blackmail illegal?"

"We're criminals, twit. Do you really think they'd let us fly free?"

Ideas were tossed around and quickly discarded in this manner until...

"Why not just freeze him out? Give him the cold shoulder 'til he gets the point?"

This was by far the vest suggestion to date so everyone agreed, congratulating Mr Freeze on his plot.

It was Catwoman, with her feline ability to spy into dark corners, who first realized the problem.

The glint of teeth...  
The wafting smell of mint...  
The maniacal giggle...  
The bag of M&Ms that landed with a crackle in the middle of the table...


	14. Chapter 14

_Hey, just wanted to say sorry for the randomness of the posting. I'll try and make it more regular in future. Also, I'm out of prompts again._

_Who Think Fast:_

_Supes is jealous and a bit mad at Bat 'cause he's wearing a Spiderman-tshirt (y'know, the pink one that Joe always wears)._

* * *

Superman landed at the gates of Wayne Manor. He rang the intercom and spoke briefly with Alfred before being admitted and continuing up the sweeping driveway. He could, of course, have simply landed on the doorstep, but he thought it polite to at least give Bruce some warning of his arrival.  
"Supes!" came a shrill call as someone short and enthusiastic threw open the doors  
"Hey Dick" he grinned, stepping inside and allowing the door to be shut behind him. "Bruce around?"  
"Batcave," Dick grinned "He's been tinkering with the new plane."  
Superman nodded, heading immediately to the old study.

Bruce was lounging in the Bat-chair with his feet up beside the keyboard, using his knee as a mouse mat to play minesweeper on the enormous vid screen. He quickly minimised the game as he heard the whoosh that meant someone was in the lift. By the time Clark entered the Bat-cave Bruce was sat upright and typing at a complicated looking document. The Bat glanced over his shoulder and sighed.  
"Oh, it's just you, Clark." he slumped back in his chair and spun to face his visitor. What he said next, Clark couldn't remember. He was too busy judging Bruce. Emblazoned across his chest, on a pink T-shirt, no less, was an image of Spiderman.  
"What?" Bruce frowned, following Clarks gaze down to his own chest.  
"Spiderman? Really, Bats? Spiderman?"  
Bruce shrugged, ears tinting pink as he picked at a hole in his jeans. "Yeah, so? He's a cool guy."  
Yes. He is a cool guy, and Clark isn't really sure why it bothers him so much. But it does.  
"Why not a Batman shirt though? Surely that makes more sense?" Clark crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow as Bruce sputtered for a reply.  
"Well... at least my shirts are interesting." he said, childishly as he looked pointedly at the plain blue polo shirt Clark had thrown on when he arrived at the manor.  
"Secret identity, dude. I'm supposed to be a struggling young reporter, can't be swanning around in swanky suits on my wages." he sighed, picking at an ink stain on his collar.  
"I guess, you know, Peter could take tips from you on keeping a low profile. TV wrestling matches don't exactly scream 'secret defender of the law', y'know?"  
They were back to Spiderman. Clark set his jaw and nodded as Bruce looked at him as though he was trying not to laugh.  
"What?" sighed Clark eventually.  
"It still really bugs you, doesn't it? Dude, I thought we were past the whole jealousy thing."  
"What? Who's jealous? I'm not jealous."  
Bruce was not convinced.  
"You don't have to be the most popular, just like I don't have to be the most powerful."  
"I just think he's an over-rated hero." muttered Clark, leaning against the wall with a soft humph. If Bruce didn't know better he would have said that Superman was pouting.  
"I feel bad for him. I do!" he added at Clarks 'what the hell' look. "He's the newest hero, meaning all the papers are just waiting for him to fuck up so they can rip it out of him. No offence."  
Clark just nodded.  
"So I'm publicly supporting him. People like Bruce Wayne for some reason,"  
By now Clark was feeling distinctly wrong-footed. Bruce was right, of course, and he felt bad about being so sour.  
"Yeah, I guess that makes sense." he muttered grudgingly. "Still... pink?"

* * *

_**A/N: **In case anyone doesn't know, I believe this is the shirt in question (change actual dots 'cause I don't think it likes links on here): . /tumblr_m6kjj82qmb1qjmht2o3_ _


End file.
